In the End
by AkizukiSakura
Summary: We all know that Clockwork stepped in, stopped time, and saved Danny’s family and two best friends – and a teacher that cared for his students despite their ridicule of him – from certain, explosive death. But what if he hadn’t? ON HIATUS
1. In the End

**Title: **_In the End  
_**Author: **_AkizukiSakura  
_**Series: **_Danny Phantom  
_**Genre: **_Hurt/Comfort/Romance  
_**Rating: **_M/R  
_**Pairing(s): **_Vlad/Danny (Pompous Pep)  
_**Spoilers/Warnings: **_Spoilers for _The Ultimate Enemy_, but eventually plot divergent. There may be flashbacks or mentions of other shows later.  
_**Disclaimer: **_Danny Phantom is owned by the esteemed Butch Hartman and all subsequent copyrights. I claim no ownership of this series, nor do I make monetary profit from the writing of this story. _**  
Summary: **_We all know that Clockwork stepped in, stopped time, and saved Danny's family and two best friends – and a teacher that cared for his students despite their ridicule of him – from certain, explosive death. But what if he hadn't?  
_**Notes:**_ The prologue starts out with a quote from a song – but I don't know if I'll do it for every chapter. It just seemed to fit well with the title and theme._

**Prologue**

_Time is a valuable thing  
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings  
Watch it count down till the end of the day  
The clock ticks life away_

_-Linkin Park, _In the End

-DP-

How had this happened? How was it possible? He was the hero, right? How could the hero win…and still lose so horribly? So drastically? So utterly, damnably, with finality that could not be disputed?

The Ghostly Wail had taken everything out of him that could be taken without resulting in his death, but the young hero wished he had died. That monster had been right. He didn't have the power to save them. He was weak, he was helpless – he'd had to rely on the power of human inventions to take his enemy down.

_Dan, Dan, his name was Dan – not Danny, not Daniel… He would be remembered as Dan, could not be confused with that sapphire-eyed hero, would not be allowed to go by such an innocent name…_

He had defeated his enemy. He had _won_. The evil phantom was locked away in a thermos – a weapon modeled after a soup container, of all things! – but the damage was done. The damage was irreversible, could not be changed, could not be erased, could not be _fixed_.

The image would forever be ingrained in his mind, forever and ever, never to be covered, never to fade. The image of his family – _mom, dad, Jazz! –_ of his friends – _Tuck, Sam! –_ of a teacher, even. They had all made fun of the teacher that shouted out the names of required reading when he was frightened or angry.

Danny had always 'disliked' the half-bald man for pushing him to do better in class, for making him read those books – had always pushed him, shown him he could do it when Technus had first made an appearance. Never had the raven-haired youth felt so academically accomplished, never had he realized that he was not as mediocre as he had thought.

But that teacher was gone, too. That teacher – _Mr. Lancer! –_ was dead, and the last words he'd spoken to him… The last words that teacher would have heard…

"_I'm guessing this explains my periodic absences, huh?"_

And finally a scream of anguish when he realized that he could do nothing for them – all six of those lives! – and when the boiler overheated. Wasn't that what that student had blabbered on about? That student that had failed the C.A.T., the one that everyone had laughed at when he'd tried to explain? It wasn't the most luxurious job in the world, certainly. And perhaps he could have tried harder…

But the fact remained that he had been right and that Jazz – _my sister is dead, gone, never gonna analyze me again, dead, dead! – _had been wrong. Jazz had not known about Dan, that sadistic, evil phantom. Jazz had worried for her baby brother, had donned the Peeler in the hopes of saving him.

And they had all perished because he had taken to long, had wasted too much energy, had not been astute enough in the future to get here sooner, and they were all _dead, gone, never gonna come back, gone_!

What was he supposed to do? What _could_ he do as he lay on the street, baby blue eyes wide in terror? The eyes of everyone that was doomed stared back at him, bound by ectoplasm – he couldn't even take their last words. He wouldn't ever hear how his parents – and his teacher – felt that they had been around the ghost boy, around _Inviso-Bill_ for so long and had never recognized him.

He might have screamed – might have yelled, cried, shouted, pleaded – when the telltale sounds of pressure escalated to new heights. He might have begged for forgiveness, might have prayed to any listening god, might have promised anything for their lives… But in the sound of the explosion everything was lost – even, mercifully, the screams of the doomed as the heat burned away the ectoplasm, and then their skin. In his gaze the sheer heat, the brilliant, mocking colors were reflected, and he could only lie there, just far enough to escape the most dangerous of the heat.

It was almost a relief when a stray hunk of twisted metal struck him just as he'd managed to struggle to his hands and knees, as bits of shrapnel and wood sliced through his cheeks and arms, as a spar of wood embedded itself in his shoulder. He was detached from what should have been excruciating pain – he could hear nothing, see nothing and, finally, he fell back onto the pavement.

Blue eyes – eyes that should have been full of the hope of youth, the promise of a future, the weariness of a teen – closed and then he thought no more.

-DP-

_I seem to have a habit of really short prologues followed by decent-length chapters, but I didn't want to launch directly into a story here._

_Credit where credit is due: Din Kelion (love you, love you, have for a while, always will) is the inspiration for this story. In her ficlet "Clockworks" this is one of the universes mentioned, and so I go to thinking…_

_And, yes, I have her endorsement here._

_For now this is it, but I'm already working on the next chapter – I didn't want to cram too much into this if no one liked it._

_Word count: 1,071_

_-AkizukiSakura _


	2. Canta Per Me ne Addio

**Title: **_In the End  
_**Author: **_AkizukiSakura  
_**Series: **_Danny Phantom  
_**Genre: **_Hurt/Comfort/Romance  
_**Rating: **_M/R  
_**Pairing(s): **_Vlad/Danny (Pompous Pep)  
_**Spoilers/Warnings: **_Spoilers for _The Ultimate Enemy_, but eventually plot divergent. There may be flashbacks or mentions of other shows later.  
_**Disclaimer: **_Danny Phantom is owned by the esteemed Butch Hartman and all subsequent copyrights. I claim no ownership of this series, nor do I make monetary profit from the writing of this story.  
_**Summary: **_We all know that Clockwork stepped in, stopped time, and saved Danny's family and two best friends – and a teacher that cared for his students despite their ridicule of him – from certain, explosive death. But what if he hadn't?  
_**Notes:**_Okay, so the lyrics for this chapter are in Japanese Romanji – there's a translation at the end. The title is Italian. I though about using the Italian version, but the Japanese translation fits the story better._

**Chapter 1: **_Canta Per Me ne Addio_

_Sayonara wo uta tte omoi koe de  
__Tsuki akari no yoru hoho wo yosete  
__Omoi de dake ga kanaderu uta wo  
__Dare mo inai nohara ni oite yuku no  
__  
__Dareka ga aruita michi no ue ni  
__Tomoshibi ga hitotsu shiroku nokoru  
__Omoi wa itsuka dareka ni todoku  
__Tooi tooki no kareta de kitto anata ni_

_-Canta Per Me, Kajiura Yuki_

-DP-

There was something within his mind warning him against waking up. It was nice and pleasant here, argued the first voice. There was warmth and sunshine and the pain was kept at bay – why would anyone want to go back to that world of suffering? Wouldn't it have been much easier to just let the fog deconstruct all thought and scatter everything to the four winds? Why would anyone go back?

The other voice was weaker right now but it hadn't always been so. This was the voice that told him to awaken. This was the voice that had pressed him into protecting his town because, inadvertently or not, wasn't he responsible for the repeat attacks? His family had constructed the portal but it was he who had messed with it and it was because of him that many of those ghosts continuously came back.

He didn't want to obey that voice now, though. Usually it went without question that he would obey. That was the voice that had him defeat Pariah Dark. That was the voice that had given him the idea to rip out his humanity in the future – _which still sounded _totally_ gross _– and it was the voice that had helped him defeat his alternate future form. He had to obey that voice – he couldn't wallow forever in that in-between place.

Reluctantly, sooty black lashes fluttered open to reveal dazed sky-blue orbs, startling the doctor that had been checking his vitals. To his vision the doctor was nothing but a big white blob topped by fair hair – hardly enough to go on, visually. Despite the instruments he could guess were hooked up to him at the moment to keep his vitals monitored he felt his wrist lifted and cool fingers resting over it, obviously checking his pulse. He closed his eyes again to take stock.

First thing's first – he was weak as a newborn kitten. As soon as the doctor set his wrist back down he tried to lift it again. He managed perhaps an inch off the starched, thin sheets before everything shut down on him again. All right, so mobility was a fantasy at the moment. There was something heavy resting on his brow, something that itched and smelled faintly of astringent and cloth. The constricting feeling reached all the way around his head so he could only surmise that it was a bandage of some sort.

That was right; he'd been hit in the head by some metal. He had probably suffered a mild concussion from it, too, if the pounding in his head he was rapidly becoming aware of was any indication. The bandage meant that he'd probably been cut as well – being the hero really sucked sometimes.

That same heavy cloth was wrapped around his left shoulder and arm, too, now that he thought about it. Had he been hurt during the fight? He didn't recall sustaining any abrasions or cuts, though, only some really painful strikes. There were maybe some scrapes from where he'd hit the ground and all a few times, but nothing that would require such a large bandage – everything else would have bruised.

…a spar of wood, wasn't it? It had been thick, heavy, and broken into splinters on the end that had impaled him, right? That would explain the bandage. He could only guess that there was a good shot of painkillers being fed into his arm via IV for him to not be feeling anything.

"If I sit you up, can you eat?" The doctor's voice was clinical but also somewhat warm and a little pitying. At the moment he was unsure of why anyone would pity him. Surely plenty of people had been in accidents before? Okay, so maybe those weren't usually injuries resulting from fighting evil alter-ego ghosts, but no one was supposed to know that part.

He opened his eyes again, this time a little startled, and let them drift over to the doctor. Now he could pick out a few more details than just a lot of white, though his sight was hardly as clear as it usually was. His expression must have shown his feelings because the doctor coughed faintly.

"Maybe it _was_ a stupid question, young man, but we prefer to ask if a person is capable before having a nurse feed the patients; some take offense to being fed." Was it just him or were all doctors ignorant and stupid? Tucker had certainly had a reason to dislike hospitals, though that was more the sickness and blinding white surfaces than anything.

_Tucker…_

There was something lurking in the back of his mind now, something painful and dark that he didn't want to recognize. He mentally shoved it away and went back to drifting. As he slipped back into unconsciousness he thought he heard the door open and another voice speak up quietly, this one accented and familiar. Before he could properly place it, though, sleep claimed him mind once more.

-DP-

He was lucky that a nurse was present when he woke up again. A nightmare gave him a boost of pure adrenaline that helped when he sat bolt upright, eyes snapping open in a panic. A second later pain tore through his shoulder and he fell forward, the sudden strength gone as swiftly as it had come. It was the nurse's frantic calling that brought him back from the brink of a second bout of darkness.

"Mr. Fenton? Mr. Fenton!" A soft groan was the young nurse's response, letting her know that the youth was still conscious, mostly. How did she know his name, anyway? Oh, right… He always carried his license in his human form – he'd only gotten it a few weeks ago on the day of his sixteenth birthday. That was probably the easiest way that they'd identified him. Cool hands helped shift him upright and the nurse held him there as she reached for the remote that would move the bed into a position that would keep him sitting.

"Try to stay with me, all right? So much sleeping after a severe head injury can…" Whatever it was 'so much sleeping after a sever head injury' could have done, though, Danny tuned out as he tried to relax against the mattress and ignore the throbbing of his shoulder. Could this nurse please shut up and – ah, there, the morphine had kicked in again, slowly dulling the pain once more. Danny didn't look up from his lap – where his gaze had been resting since the nurse had sat him up – until the unmistakable scent of hospital food assailed his nose.

Contrary to popular belief, the food in a hospital was not that bad. Certainly it was not the best food to be found anywhere but, for a normal person, it was palatable. For Danny, though, the thought of food made him feel sick and the strong smell was not helping the delicate balance his stomach was in. Knowing he didn't have the strength to do it himself, the nurse had sat down and was attempting to feed him a spoonful of broth. Danny turned away, baffling and frustrating the girl.

"Hey now!" she began to scold, cheeks reddening. Danny ignored her, letting his gaze rest listlessly upon the drawn curtains in the room. The girl tried several times to make him eat – each time he either ignored her or stared at her impassively. He wasn't upset. He was too lethargic to be upset and, granted, it was entirely possible she had never dealt with a patient like him. After all, it wasn't every day that a person witnessed…

_Witnessed…_

The scene he had been trying so hard to suppress came, unbidden, to the front of his mind and, with it, the shock that had kept him calm dissolved. He noted distantly that the nurse had muttered something about boys and their stubbornness as she bore the tray away. The desire to cry was a powerful one but he refused to cave. It was his fault they were dead. What right did he have to sit here and cry?

The urge to leave hit him suddenly and powerfully – he did not want to sit here any longer. He didn't want to be confined to this hospital room with nurses that tried to feed him or with doctors that were happy with their lives. He didn't want to be around this place, the air saturated with sterile smells and the taint of sickness barely held at bay. He tried to resist, tried to stay where he was, but in the end he weakly pushed the blankets away. He knew he couldn't just walk out of here – first off, he doubted he could even walk across the floor, much less out of the hospital like this and, secondly, a well-meaning doctor was bound to try to stop him. This left him only one option.

He was pleased to realize that, even though he felt inhumanly weak, the ability to shift to his ghostly form seemed entirely feasible. Rings of light appeared around his waist, shifting apart. It was just like nothing had happened, yet he decided against his typical phrase; it seemed too juvenile now, too innocent. He started to drift upward and was stopped by the tug of the IV still in his arm. Without even having to think about it he turned that arm intangible, let the needle fall to the floor, and made his escape through the ceiling and out.

Perhaps his power was drained so that he couldn't call on his more dangerous attacks, and his ectoplasm shield was likewise above his abilities right now, but phasing and flying were so easy that he barely needed to concentrate to do them. It was even better because, in his ghostly form, he seemed to be lacking the injuries that had plagued his human form. With little thought of where he wanted to go he simply drifted away.

Flying, he noticed immediately, helped calm his feelings. The desire to cry was still there, but it was subdued. The pain in his heart subsided in favor of a numb feeling that crept over him.

He would not cry – crying meant that they were truly gone. Crying meant that he had lost everything. Crying meant acceptance, and he was not ready to face the truth.

-DP-

Danny Fenton was not the only one who felt the lives lost. He was just the only one who knew the entire story. To everyone else it was simply a tragic accident that he had survived – certainly it had been all over the news.

People lamented the loss of those six lives. The Fentons had been strange and eccentric but they meant well – even the oblivious Jack – and the daughter had been brilliant in a snobbish way. That young woman had so many opportunities waiting for her in life. She'd had offers from Harvard and Yale, among others, had scored the highest on record on the C.A.T.

The teacher was one of those teachers that no one liked but that everyone knew. Mr. Lancer was a teacher that actually cared about his students, even if he was old-fashioned in his views, and he was easily ridiculed by even the geekiest of students. He had worried and cared, though, about a student that would cheat on a test – had called those parents to discuss that student's future, had given him a chance to do the honest thing without confrontation.

The two teenagers were not popular, not by any stretch of the imagination, but the dark youth had been a genius with anything technological, able to crack codes and software with ease. Deigned a "techno-geek" by anyone who saw him, he had a brilliant future with software and hardware design. The Goth girl was seen as antisocial but had shown on several occasions to be an impassioned individual capable of making her opinion known. She could have easily become a journalist, a photographer, or an animal rights activist from her vegetarian lifestyle.

It was amazing how many people felt the loss. Fellow classmates who had bullied and made fun of the teens – and Danny's parents – had stared in disbelief at the television when it was all announced. All right, maybe they'd had a standing hierarchy, but it was only _high school_. No one really wanted Sam or Tucker to die. Even the bullying from Dash had been innocent enough; a few scrapes and bruises, never anything life-threatening. It was character building.

What were they supposed to do now? Who were they supposed to bully and, secretly, envy? Danny, Sam, and Tucker had not been the most popular students but their close-knit friendship was enviable by anyone who saw them. They didn't bother to conform to the standards set by the popular crowd. They didn't stylishly linger at the mall. They didn't wear all the fabulous clothes –Tucker wore a red, beret-style cap!

But they had always been together in the lunchroom and after school, could be seen walking around town. Everyone had known two of the losers would end up together, and no one had to be a genius to guess who.

Except now it wasn't going to happen. The teens, the Fentons, and the teacher were all dead and a certain raven-haired youth had been landed in the hospital from the same incident. How was the school supposed to deal with the loss of four people who attended it regularly? Even Mr. and Mrs. Fenton came by often – granted, it was usually on another paranormal hunt, but they were still as much a part of the community as anyone.

It didn't seem possible that six bright, shining lives had been so easily snuffed out. It didn't seem possible that there would be no more obnoxious shouts of "Ghost!" from the Fentons, no more sighs of exasperation from the redheaded Jasmine, no more techno-geekin' for Tucker or saving the frogs for Sam.

All the money in the world had not saved the Mansons from their grief. Even the grandmother, known for her cheerful, somewhat wild, ways went through boxes and boxes of tissues. Mrs. Manson could not hold one of her lacy, delicate handkerchiefs for long before it was soaked beyond usefulness – Mr. Manson looked like he had not shaved since the incident.

They were not rich but Mr. and Mrs. Foley were equally shell-shocked at the news that their boy – their only baby boy! – was gone. There would be no more excitement on birthdays and Christmas when their computer-whiz son opened his gifts. There would be no more yell of anticipation when he opened the box containing a new PDA, no more hugs and rants on why the newest version was inferior to the older, or how that back door in the software still hadn't been fixed.

What were they supposed to do now? How could they face the only surviving Fenton child and not wish that he was gone and that their child was the one to survive? How could they move on with their lives now? Mrs. Manson could no longer try to fit her daughter into frilly pink dresses – Mrs. Foley would not be able to be an overbearing mother to her darling child.

_What were they supposed to do now?_

-DP-

The ghost community, the ones that Danny dealt with on a regular basis, feigned nonchalance but some of them could not suppress the fact that they, too, thought about those teens. Skulker, Spectra, Ember, Youngblood, and the Box Ghost in particular – all of them had regular interaction with Danny and, thus, with his two cohorts. They had seen the friendship. They knew that Danny would sacrifice his life for his friends and that, in turn, Samantha and Tucker would do the same.

Danny had the power; Tucker the technological brains; Sam the logic and book knowledge. They made a team that older, far more experienced, ghosts had trouble penetrating. And yet, despite the fact that it was Danny who could defend himself the best, Tucker and Sam never backed down. They never said 'Oh, sorry, we can't help'. They raided the weapons Jack and Maddie Fenton created; they stuck to the youngest Fenton's side like little burrs.

And now they were dead? It seemed impossible to believe but the simple fact that six people had been blown into tiny pieces could not be disputed.

The ghosts could only imagine how the young halfa was feeling. Sure, they fought on more than one occasion. Sure, the snowy-haired child was somehow more powerful than all of them. They had all been shoved into that ridiculous thermos on more than one occasion but, when it came down to it, he was a hero for all of them, not just humans.

He protected the humans from Pariah, yes, but he saved the ghosts, too. Even though the ghosts constantly attacked him – even though they tried and tried to undermine him – he had still helped them.

That hero's complex of his had to be his tragic flaw. He had to be the hero against Dan – not that any of them knew of the future Danny had prevented, only of the present Dan that he had defeated. He had saved the world from Dan but it cost him the lives of his friends and family. He could have run. He could have made them run, too, but what would Dan have done to everyone else?

How would the pure young halfa have lived with that on his conscious?

Everyone knew he wouldn't have been able to. He would have been wracked with guilt, eaten alive from the inside with the knowledge that he had been so selfish. It was just the kind of person he was. And he was what, sixteen? A high-school student still with mediocre grades and no known extracurricular activities. How had such an average teenager become such a hero in the space of two short years?

How was he able, constantly, to stave off the one ghost that all the others feared? That ghost, who was a halfa too, who'd had his powers for twenty years? Plasmius could duplicate himself. He was rich, he had access to the materials to create weapons, he had power that Danny did not, and yet the youth triumphed time and time again.

Was there truly power in the desire to save people? And if there was, what happened to it now that he had failed?

What would the young Phantom do now?

-DP-

There was one other person that was thinking about all of this. He knew only vaguely what had happened between Daniel and the ghost-who-was-_not-_Daniel but he knew more than what the news did. He knew whatever had happened had not been an accident but he doubted it had been Daniel's fault. Not on purpose, at any rate, because he knew that Daniel meant well but he was also inexperienced when it came to focusing on more than one thing. If he was focused on defeating his enemy it took his friends shouting his name for him to realize that he was in trouble.

It was a wonder no one ever found out his identity. Honestly, what were the coincidences that both Samantha and Tucker were constantly around Fenton and Phantom, both of whom had the same first name? Humans really were oblivious to so many things.

Even so, he had never really tried to actually kill the youngest Fenton. Everything he did was carefully calculated – he could beat the boy to within an inch of his life but he never moved in for the kill. Why?

The only one of the Fentons he really wanted out of the picture was that oaf, Jack, but even then the desire to kill the man had faded over time. What had started out as an almost obsessive desire to have Maddie as his wife and her two children – especially Daniel – as his own eventually turned into something that was more of a nurturing rivalry with the boy.

After all, despite his steel-gray hair and the circles under his eyes, he had stopped aging physically at the age of twenty-eight. Marriage to a human would be impossible and watching a daughter grow older than him would be strange. In the end he decided that he would do what he did for the sake of appearances. Daniel expected Plasmius to show up once in a while with some sort of diabolical plot and so he obliged the youth. He didn't have much else to do as it was except work on his plans for domination, but those plans were delicate. By the time he finished them even young Phantom would not be able to stop him.

That was all beside the point, though. At the moment the reason Daniel was placed in a private room away from the prying eyes of the media was because he had signed the check for it. The amount was pocket change to him and, after all, hadn't Daniel been traumatized enough for a few days? The catch was that the boy's condition would be reported to him. He had to keep an eye on his young protégée after all. Maybe Daniel refused to consciously be his heir but the fact remained that Vladimir Masters was more of a father figure to Danny than his idiot father.

Vlad had expected the first few reports – that Daniel slept for an abnormally long time, that his vitals were weaker than usual, that his wounds were healing a little faster than normal. He'd expected, too, that the halfa would wake up only briefly the first time around and that he'd probably wake up rather harshly the second time. He'd even expected the boy to refuse food. After all, he was bound to remember what had happened eventually.

The billionaire had not, though, expected the youth to vanish like that. He knew that injuries sustained in a halfa's human form were not present in their ghost form but that didn't erase them. To be honest Vlad was surprised Daniel could even take his ghost form after what had happened.

And though he wouldn't admit it to anyone else, Vlad cared about Danny, in a twisted sort of way. He'd done a lot of spying – had thought about cloning the youth! – but in the end it wouldn't have been the same. Just from watching over the youth he knew that there was something charismatic about him, something in him that was a born leader despite his apparent unpopularity and poor grades. Vlad rather suspected ghost hunting had something to do with those grades, too.

Why did the boy disappear like that? What did he hope to accomplish? Admittedly, Vlad could not say that he knew what Danny was going through – he never cared enough about anyone but Maddie to mourn a death. Perhaps this was his way of coping? Way or not, though, he was going to end up hurting himself worse with his foolishness and that was something Vlad would not allow. With a sigh he got up and shifted forms, black suit turning white and narrow chest broadening significantly. For others it might be hard to find the youngest Fenton but for Vlad it would take considerably less time.

-DP-

Of all places Vlad found the currently ghostly Fenton sitting on the metal railing of a billboard looking thoroughly depressed as he watched the town below. In truth Vlad might have missed him if the moonlight from the almost-full moon hadn't lit the youth's hair up so well. With the black jumpsuit Danny could almost have blended in with the shadows. It helped that the lamps that usually lit the billboard at night were broken.

It was cold out tonight – Halloween had been two weeks ago and the middle of November was chilly – so perhaps Danny hadn't noticed when his breath came chilled to announce the presence of another ghost. It was either that or he wasn't really paying attention, so Vlad broke the silence first.

"Feeling sorry for yourself, are you?" He was pleased when the youth jumped a little, surprised at the sound of another voice. It meant Daniel had no completely closed his mind off to the rest of the world. Lime green eyes lifted to see Vlad, who expected a scowl, or a glare maybe. What he got was the obligatory glance before the youth tucked his chin right back on his knees and ignored him.

Vlad hid his surprise under a scowl. Well, that was certainly different. Usually his mere presence was enough to put Daniel on high alert. This time he was given no more attention than a fly on the wall – probably less since a person usually contemplated killing the fly – and he was certain he didn't care for the feeling. He hovered in the air for a few moments, askance. What now?

"Is this what you plan to do then, Daniel? Wallow in misery?" he tried instead. Not even a twitch from the youth. Since when did Daniel have any self-restraint? Normally it took only one insult from Vlad and the youth flew off the handle to try, usually ineffectively, to make him regret his words. Vlad frowned, his patience wearing thin, and tried one more time.

"They are dead, dear boy. Putting your body in undue stress isn't going to bring them back." There, finally – the boy had twitched at his words, those white-gloved hands tightening into fists. "Or didn't you know?" Vlad continued, watching Daniel closely. "Even if you change to your ghost form your body is the same. You've probably torn open that wound in your shoulder and – missed!" he announced, skirting the green energy that the youth had shot at him. Vlad could tell as it flew past his shoulder that it hadn't been very strong anyway – the important thing was to make Daniel open back up.

Looking back at Daniel, though, Vlad almost blinked in surprise. The glare in those green eyes was almost murderous – he didn't think he'd ever seen such a hateful stare from the younger halfa. Under the anger, though, Vlad could tell that Daniel was hurt more than anything. Instead of backing off, though, Vlad crossed his arms.

"Go back to the hospital," he ordered firmly. To his surprise Danny got to his feet, fists clenched tightly. Vlad could tell he was holding back, something that shocked him further.

"Leave me alone," Daniel said fiercely. Vlad stared at him.

"I beg your pardon?" he said finally, his tone dangerously soft. Usually when he spoke with such ice it was because he was going to get serious, and usually the white-haired child knew it. This time, though, Daniel only rose into the air opposite him, green energy glowing at his palms.

"You don't know the whole story," he hissed. "You don't know what happened. You don't know how I feel and you don't know why it's _my fault_! So shut up and leave me alone!"

Well, Vlad could hardly stand for such sass from the brat, could he? In the space of three seconds he had the younger halfa pinned to the billboard via a hand closed around his neck. Daniel clasped his hands around Vlad's wrist, his green gaze baleful.

"Listen to me, you impertinent child!" Vlad said haughtily, red eyes flashing dangerously. "_I am trying to help you_! This childishness will end if I have to make it. You are _not_ the only person in the world to have ever lost someone dear to you and you _will not_ make matters worse for yourself by neglecting the needs of your body. _Do you understand me_?"

Normally by this time Daniel would have given him a nod, or a choked out gasp of assent, or even a glare of reluctant consent. This time he only stared at Vlad, somehow completely unimpressed and not afraid of Vlad's mounting anger. The older halfa felt his control fading swiftly – his grip tightened. The youth didn't even wince. Vlad's voice went lower, his tone deadly, as he leaned forward.

"Either you will agree or I will take matters into my own hands," he threatened in a whisper, his claret stare boring into those glowing green eyes. He couldn't be certain just _why_he worried so much about Daniel – he suspected his young rival was wondering, too – but Vlad could not help but think about that what-ifs of the situation. What if Daniel had died, too? Would he have been able to handle it? Such a large portion of his life revolved around the youngest Fenton. Mentoring him delicately, maneuvering him appropriately, boosting his power with every fight, and simply observing him when he went to school.

Even with his threat, though, Daniel said nothing against the hand on his throat. In fact, if Vlad didn't know any better, he would almost swear that Daniel _wanted_to die. He thought about that for a moment before shock crept over his features. Slowly he released the youth, staring at him, his mouth a firm, tight line. Thinking about it now, he shouldn't be all that surprised that Daniel might wish he was dead. His family was gone and his friends were gone.

Still, that Vlad _would not_ allow. Instead he reached for one of those frail wrists, exerting a harsh current of power through the youth. Apathetic or not, Daniel yelled just like always before falling limp, his form reverting back to that of a human still dressed in a hospital gown. Vlad was unsurprised to see that he'd bled through the bandage on his shoulder. Idiot boy. Vlad faced a dilemma now, though. After this encounter he knew Daniel would not stay in a hospital and, since they didn't know what Daniel was, there was no way the doctors would be able to keep him there.

That left only one option, a path that had Vlad gritting his teeth in annoyance. Somehow, though, it wasn't as bad as he knew it should have been. Shaking his head at his own folly the older half-ghost scooped up the younger bridal-style, careful not to jar the sluggishly bleeding shoulder further.

If a hospital couldn't hold Daniel Fenton, Vlad Masters would have to do it himself.

-DP-

_And so concludes chapter 1. _

_I'm trying a genre that I don't usually write, so if it's bad, that's why. I'm a person for fluff and happiness, not death and depression, so it takes me some time to churn out decently-sized chapters like this at the best of times. _

_Before anyone says anything, I know in TUE Clockwork refers to Danny as fourteen but he needs to be a bit older for my conscience. It also deals with my annoyance that he doesn't seem to have advanced grades in school though there are, if I'm not mistaken, two episodes that deal with summer, suggesting that the series occurs over a span of two years._

_Appearance-wise I'm not worried, since I subscribe to the idea that a halfa ages extremely slowly. Yeah, it's a cliché, but I like that cliché._

_Like I said, this was really difficult to write and, though it seems like Danny's entirely too calm, give it time. He has an image to uphold, to himself anyway._

_Who thinks Danny and Vlad's relationship will become father/son? Yeah, I didn't think anyone did._

Canta Per Me Translation:

_With a sweet voice I sing farewell  
On a moonlit night I draw near to your face  
The song I play on my memories  
Leads everyone into a meadow_

_One white lamp-light is left  
On the road where someone has walked  
Someday these feelings will reach that someone  
That faraway place and time--surely, you are there _

_Word count: 5,632_

_-AkizukiSakura_


	3. I'll Be Missing You

**Title: **_In the End  
_**Author: **_AkizukiSakura  
_**Series: **_Danny Phantom  
_**Genre: **_Hurt/Comfort/Romance  
_**Rating: **_M/R  
_**Pairing(s): **_Vlad/Danny (Pompous Pep)  
_**Spoilers/Warnings: **_Spoilers for _The Ultimate Enemy_, but eventually plot divergent. There may be flashbacks or mentions of other DP episodes later.  
_**Disclaimer: **_Danny Phantom is owned by the esteemed Butch Hartman and all subsequent copyrights. I claim no ownership of this series, nor do I make monetary profit from the writing of this story.  
_**Summary: **_We all know that Clockwork stepped in, stopped time, and saved Danny's family and two best friends – and a teacher that cared for his students despite their ridicule of him – from certain, explosive death. But what if he hadn't?  
_**Notes:**_ Thinking on everything here, I doubt this story will be very long at all. It's not meant to be much more than a "what if?" scenario. I have an AU planned, though, that might be a little lengthy. With _Legend_ in the works too, though, I've promised not to start a new story just yet. Two is plenty for right now._

**Chapter 2: **_I'll Be Missing You_

_Every step I take… Every move I make…  
__Every single day, every time I pray,  
__I'll be missing you._

_Thinkin' of the day… When you went away…  
__What a life to take, what a bond to break,  
__I'll be missing you._

_-I'll Be Missing You, Puff Daddy featuring Faith Evans_

-DP-

As always happened when he woke up from a shock from Vlad turning him human, Danny registered a headache pounding at his temples before he had even opened his eyes. His lips settled instantly into a scowl – for all he knew, though, he could have already been frowning in his sleep. Reluctantly the youth forced his eyes open and decided that he would stare up at the ceiling until everything came into focus again. Only when that small feat had been accomplished did he allow his tired mind to recognize the various thoughts swirling in his head.

First and foremost on his mind was bitter anger at Vlad – he needed something to think of besides his family and friends and, luckily enough for him, Vlad was present in his thoughts for him to focus on. How dare the man interfere like that? Danny seethed silently for several minutes before he decided to try to get up. He managed sitting up just fine and, though his sight was not at its best at the moment, he was able to discern that he was in a room with stone walls, a small window on either side of a bay window complete with a seat, and that it was definitely not a hospital room. All in all, the room as a whole was rather lavish.

Danny immediately recognized where he was. It had been a few years since that fateful day when he'd first met Vlad Masters – and subsequently Plasmius – but he knew this room anyway. It was the same room he'd stayed in when Vlad had thrown his reunion party. Thankfully it was not decorated in green and gold – to that end, though, it was sparsely decorated at all beyond sheer green curtains on the windows and deep green brocade draped around the bed. There was also a rug on the floor. Idly Danny wondered if Vlad had taken offense to Jazz's remark about hiring an interior decorator because this was much more tastefully done than it had been previously.

There were three doors in this room – the one on the left side of the bed led presumably, to a washroom. The one directly across from the bed was probably the one that led to the hallway. The one against the same wall as the bed was made of clear glass – a balcony, then. Since he had a balcony on one wall and a bay window on another Danny could only suppose he was in a room at the corner of the castle. He sniffed in disdain – clearly Vlad wanted him as far out of the way as possible. The window overlooked the driveway though, albeit nearly four stories up, so at least he wasn't at the back of the castle.

It wasn't until Danny decided that he might like to get up that he realized there was something around his neck and, when he raised a hand to find out what it was, that there was also something around his wrist. Whatever was around his neck was thin like a bandage. A glance into the mirror resting over the bureau revealed nothing, suggesting it was something that matched his skin tone too. Trying to puzzle out what it was only frustrated Danny so, instead, he turned his attention to the object around his wrist.

This was much easier to figure out. Not only did it glow green but it was also attached to one of the posts of the four-poster bed by equally shining neon links. He was chained to the bed by manacles he could not phase through. His lips twisted grimly. So he was a prisoner now, was he? Well, that was fine. If Vlad wanted to play it that way, that was perfectly fine.

Danny could play that way, too.

-DP-

Maybe chaining the boy to the bed had been a little much considering what rested around his neck but Vlad couldn't be certain that the young idiot wouldn't find a way out of the room even with the doors locked. Daniel was irritatingly inventive at times.

Vlad was not a nice man. He knew it, Daniel knew it – hell, everyone who had ever met the true Vladimir Masters knew it! His reasons for forcing the youth to accept what had happened and move on stemmed not from any real concern for Daniel but from Vlad's knowledge that it was what Maddie would have wanted.

It was also what that bumbling oaf Jack would have wanted, too, but Vlad was willing to overlook that this time.

It was so hard to believe that Maddie was dead. It didn't seem possible that a woman of her beauty and intelligence had fallen prey to something as…something as pathetic as an overheated boiler. How could that have happened? How had that idiot boy allowed it to happen?!

The ice in his glass chinked as he picked it up, his gaze listless as he observed the amber liquid and the condensation forming on the glass before he took a sip of the heavily-depleted alcohol.

What was he supposed to do with the boy now? By all rights he should have been preparing for his junior year by now. Illegal access to Daniel's school records had shown that, though he'd been struggling, the brat had been passing all of his classes even if his algebra score was borderline. They had already taken their mid-term exams too and Christmas was only a week or so away. Some part of Vlad that wasn't heartless realized just how bad Daniel must be feeling right now but, happily enough, he rarely paid much attention to thoughts like that.

One thing was for absolute certain – Daniel _would not_ lie in his room moping for however long it took him to get over it, if ever the stupid child did. Vlad refused to allow it. Not only would it stretch his nerves as thin as possible but it was also unacceptable simply because it was too pathetic of the boy that constantly thwarted his schemes.

It did not occur to the billionaire that he was simply unable to accept that Daniel, who was always somehow one step ahead even when Vlad thought he had the upper hand, could be reduced so far because then what would that make Vlad? Weaker to have been beaten by a child with such a soft heart? Or if it did occur to him, he ignored it – he was very good at that.

Daniel's grades were too poor to get the boy into a decent college on a scholarship in the two and a half years he would need to apply to colleges. He still had those years, though, to pick up his grades and that was something Vlad fully intended on having Daniel do. He would have to make him actually study and would keep him from his ghost hunting activities – the latter would be easy simply because Vlad could threaten the ghosts Daniel regularly fought with into leaving humanity alone, at least anywhere Daniel would feel obligated to protect. It was the former that he would have to apply his mind to making happen – he knew that he was going to have to force Daniel to go to school next semester. It was just lucky for the boy that winter vacation was already coming up, so he wouldn't just be thrown back into the high school environment.

But what could he use against the boy? Daniel would not care about anything right now, but Vlad wasn't going to have any of that, either. He wasn't doing this for the brat's future out of the goodness of his heart, but because the Fenton family – Maddie being the only one he really cared for – would not want their son to mope for the rest of his life. Of course, Vlad didn't know what had happened – he'd known that Daniel had fought a powerful ghost, but little else beyond that. He didn't know just _why _this had hit Daniel so much harder than it should have. Perhaps the child should have felt pain, certainly, and sadness, but Vlad saw heavy guilt in that azure stare, too. Now why would a ghost-hunting hero be guilty about something like this?

Vlad had a feeling that Daniel would not tell him what had happened, though, partly because the wound was still much too fresh but also because Daniel did not like him even remotely and this was probably something personal to the youth that he would have divulged only to his little friends before they, too, were gone.

Idly Vlad trailed a finger around the rim of the chilled glass, his gaze thoughtful. Before this had happened Vlad knew he could have coerced Daniel into doing better just by insulting the boy. Doing that now, though, would only make the child retire further into his shell and end up making things even worse.

What, then, could he do?

Vlad sat up suddenly, the idea coming to him almost instantly. If he couldn't force Daniel into doing as he wished by insult, he would just have to threaten the youth. Physical pain probably wouldn't have any effect – likewise, refusing his food or casual amenities would be ineffective. Vlad could force Daniel's transformation in front of people and reveal his identity but at the moment he probably wouldn't care about that, either.

A threat to his friends, though… Samantha and Tucker were dead but their families were still alive. Vlad was rich and influential enough to ruin any life. Surely Daniel wouldn't wish that upon the Mansons or Foleys? Vlad could even ruin the Fenton name with a bit of false evidence.

A purely devious smirk spread over the billionaire's lips. It was time to go up to Daniel's room and extend his 'offer' to the boy.

-DP-

The chain connected to the manacle around his wrist was not very long. A rough estimation from Danny put it about three feet – there was not even enough slack in the chain for him to venture more than a few steps in any direction. Eventually Danny was reduced to sitting back down on the huge bed and contemplating what was going to happen now.

He _did_ know that he had no intentions to doing anything that Vlad told him to do – he was still angry with the older halfa for essentially kidnapping him and subsequently chaining him to a bed. Honestly, why chain him to the bed?

The answer presented itself in his mind almost as soon as he thought the question and, for a moment, he felt a little sheepish. Of course Vlad would want him restrained while he wasn't around. Danny would have been long gone as soon as he'd woken up, first off, and secondly he probably wouldn't have been averse to destroying the room a bit while he was at it. He was definitely angry enough to do it.

Of course, that begged the question of why he was here anyway. He remembered, vaguely, that Vlad had forced him back to his human form – which had hurt a whole lot, by the way, and had aggravated his shoulder quite a bit – and that he'd ended up passing out. Apparently his shoulder had been bandaged again, and Vlad had probably done something about the pain, because until he'd tugged on the wound by accident a few moments ago Danny had completely forgotten about it.

He was also dressed in a pair of silk pajamas that were too large for him, the drawstring on the pants pulled tight and the collar of the shirt falling much too low over his chest. Danny didn't care, though – it was better than the hospital gown, at any rate, and had allowed him the chance to check his shoulder for himself. He pointedly ignored the fact that someone must have changed him and that it could only have been one person.

Taking a moment to find his hand in the large sleeve Danny raised it ad brushed his fingers over his forehead irately, noting that his headache had not faded even slightly. Honestly, if he didn't know better, he'd suspect that Vlad had purposefully made that hurt worse than usual.

The billionaire's behavior still surprised him. Anger he could expect from the man. After all, Vlad had idolized his mother for years – at least twenty or so, right? That still angered Danny, though, because as much as Vlad claimed it to be so Danny knew the man didn't love his mother. Not the way his father had loved her, not the way he and Jazz had loved her. Vlad was obsessed with her, but not in love with her. But that didn't really matter anymore.

Still, while he'd certainly seen anger in the older halfa – had felt it from the tight grip Vlad had on his throat that night – he had also seen exasperation, worry, and maybe a little fear. Danny thought he had imagined it until Vlad let him go with an expression of surprise. He must have figured it out that Danny didn't really care if Vlad decided to kill him or not. What was the point of being alive?

The kids at school would only have pitied him in their silence. Dash probably would have left him alone forever and Paulina might have talked to him out of sympathy. Danny did not want people to look at him like that. Maybe it was lucky that he was in Wisconsin now, somewhere that no one knew him. They might know him as Phantom, but Danny had no interest in assuming that alias again any time soon – maybe ever again.

What kind of hero was he, anyway? The hero was supposed to save people, not defeat the enemy and then run out of power in time for his family and friends to be blown to oblivion.

If the lock on the door hadn't clicked at the moment Danny probably would have lapsed right back into self pity. As it was the door swung open to reveal the last person Danny felt like talking to. His expression must have shown his distaste because the man paused briefly and raised a single brow at him, clearly unfazed.

"Still wallowing in pity?" Vlad asked breezily, noting the way Danny's cerulean gaze flashed angrily at him, though the youth said nothing. Just like he had the night before… Whatever had driven Daniel to this pathetic state must have been terrible for him to suddenly be able to hold his tongue. "I'll take that as a 'yes', then." Vlad leaned against the bureau, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he viewed the surly teen perched upon the bed.

"I'll bet you haven't even thought of what you're going to do now, have you?" _That_ had Daniel starting a bit in surprise. Clearly this was not the way he had imagined a confrontation between them to be. The older half suppressed the urge – barely – to roll his eyes. Honestly, did Daniel think he was going to come to berate him over the death of his family? "I have," he added, scrutinizing the youth. Predictably, Danny looked at him in surprise again.

"What?" he asked, finally speaking up. Vlad supposed his annoyance must have been evident to Daniel for the boy to turn a faint pink and amend his question. "Why are you thinking about my future?" he asked instead, distrust thick in his tone.

"An excellent question, Daniel… Before I answer, let me ask one of my own, hmm? What do you expect your family and friends would have you do now?" From the way Daniel's gaze dropped instantly to his lap and his lips settled into a scowl Vlad could tell that Danny had given the idea some thought. "Because, you see… I can guess fairly accurately that they would have wanted you to 'move on', so to speak. Do you really think making your wounds worse and throwing away your education is going to make that–"

"Is that all you have to say?" Danny interrupted dully, now staring out the window. Vlad blinked, just once, indignant that Daniel had not let him finished. "You're feeding me the same thing they all say. In books, in movies, in plays… I think people who write those things haven't ever…" But he couldn't seem to get the rest of the sentence out, for he only shrugged listlessly.

Since when had Daniel become so eloquent? Then again, Vlad usually only ever heard him talk when he was with his friends – as a typical teenager – and when they fought, and by that time Danny was usually too angry to say much beyond clichéd colloquialisms.

"Well, you can't say I didn't at least attempt for civility," Vlad said with a falsely-morose sigh. "You're being quite the little idiot, aren't you boy? Whether I am, ahem, 'feeding' you what you see as the cliché, it's not to be denied that it is cliché for a reason. Your mother, for one, certainly wouldn't want to see you like this."

Danny's gaze flicked over to Vlad, openly measuring and surprisingly calculating before he shrugged again.

"My mother was the only one you cared about," he reminded Vlad, as though the man needed it. "So everything you're telling me right now means nothing. You don't care, and I know it, so there's nothing you can do to make me–"

This time it was Vlad's turn to interrupt with: "Maybe there isn't… But I think there is." Somewhat foolishly Vlad had hoped it wouldn't come down to him having to force Daniel to do as he said. Maybe if the boy wasn't so damned hardheaded it might not have had to, but c'est la vie. "It would be absolutely _terrible_ for the Fenton name to be ruined," Vlad remarked idly. "Or for the Mansons and Foleys to suddenly become desolate. Perhaps if it surfaced that all were…involved in something of questionable legality?"

Vlad knew he had struck a nerve by the purely venomous glare Daniel was giving him through his raven bangs. Undaunted, Vlad caught his stare as he continued. "It wouldn't be difficult, after all… The _right_ kind of evidence, a bit of money, a hint of–"

He stopped talking. In any other situation he would have had to duck but Vlad had been prepared for this bout of violent anger when he'd first decided to 'kidnap' the boy. It was just lucky that the length of the chain wasn't that long or the fist Daniel had clenched might have made contact. Vlad stared, impassive, at the angry youth standing just out of reach in front of him.

"Since you seem to understand quite clearly, let me tell you how things will proceed from here." He paused, as though waiting for some sort of comment from Daniel. When none came, he nodded. "When you are in the presence of other people, myself included, you will conduct yourself accordingly. I won't stand for any more of your childish tantrums or callous words.

You _will_ go to school when the new semester opens, and you will study. I expect your grade point average to rise significantly, or I might have to make an example of one of your deceased friends' families," he threatened softly. Daniel wanted to say something, Vlad could tell, but even a teenager that rarely thought things through like Danny could understand when he'd been cornered.

"You will go to college, and you will choose a major that you are suited for. You will either earn a scholarship and not have to worry about expense or I will pay and you can work your debt off to me. I'm sure I know which option you would prefer." And Vlad did know, too, if the pure loathing in that blue glare was anything to go on. "I won't have any nonsense from you about your health. Until your shoulder is better, you will submit to allowing me to clean and bandage it. You will not skip meals. And you are not to assume your ghost form."

He expected to be fought on that last one, if not because Daniel relied often on that form then because principle should have had him balking at following the orders of anyone who was not his mother or father, or even his sister. Silence met his last order, suggesting that either he intended to disobey anyway – something Vlad had already planned for via that special device around Daniel's neck – or that he, strangely, had no intentions of taking that form again anyway. Highly doubting the latter, Vlad assumed Daniel was going to try anyway and decided, graciously of course, to enlighten the youth as to why it would be a bad idea.

"To ensure you do as I say, the device around your neck – I know you can feel it, though it _is_ rather difficult to see – will exert the same power as I did last night should you attempt to shift forms." From the way Daniel lifted a hand to the strip of deceptively flimsy material Vlad could tell that he wasn't happy with this new discovery. "I don't suggest trying to remove it," Vlad added idly. "The results would be unpleasant." He straightened, dropping his arms back to his side. Daniel looked up when he came closer, seeming surprised when he picked up the youth's manacled wrist.

"Destroy anything and I will make you regret it," Vlad said at last, giving Daniel a calm-but-menacing stare before he unlocked the manacle but left the other end fastened to the bed. "Of course, I have no true control over your body," the man said lightly, staring down at Daniel expressionlessly. "So there is nothing to make you do as I say but for your feelings on what I suggested. If you decide to do as I ask, dinner will be in precisely one hour. I will take your appearance as acquiescing to my suggestions and your absence as indication to do what I need to do."

With that said, there was nothing left to keep Vlad in this room. Daniel had not said anything at all ever since his comments on Vlad's impassive nature toward his existence. Vlad supposed the teen needed time to think it over – and an hour was plenty of time. Besides, Vlad already knew what Daniel was going to choose and so in that time he would be able to make a few phone calls, one of which involved having Daniel's things gathered from his house and another that would have Vlad instated as Daniel's temporary guardian. There was also the matter of his parents will to be read, but that could happen later. If anything, it was unnecessary until Daniel became of age.

Vlad shut the door with a soft _snap_, though this time the click of the lock was absent.

-DP-

He didn't know what to make of all this. The idea of Vlad Masters caring about him was laughable and Danny wasn't nearly naïve enough to think that Vlad cared even a little bit about him. All of this was done because Vlad felt it his _duty_ to the woman he had _loved_. Danny snorted.

Vlad was incapable of love. He could pine, maybe, and desire, and want, and covet, but love? _Walker_ was probably more capable of that emotion than Vlad. Hell, even Dan probably had more potential than Vlad did, and that was only because there was a bit of Danny in that psychopathic ghost.

Vlad's threat proved it.

Danny was hurting. Everything had happened so fast, so recently, that the wounds hadn't even had time to be cleaned, much less healed, and already Vlad was threatening – inferring, though, because otherwise it would be blackmail – to ruin the names of his family and friends. It was bad enough to Danny that they'd died because he hadn't been able to protect them – he'd be damned if he let something like this happen when he had the power to prevent it.

Vlad had explicitly forbid him to destroy anything, or from behaving questionably in front of others – Danny supposed that was a reference for his new classmates as well as Vlad – and that he wasn't allowed to starve himself.

Vlad had said nothing about 'getting over' their deaths. Danny could still mourn them. He didn't have to let them go. He didn't finally have to shed tears and accept that they were really gone.

When an hour had passed Danny reluctantly got to his feet. He was unsurprised that the door was unlocked and he closed the door behind him, setting off down the hallway a moment later. He still remembered the layout of Vlad's castle. It was sort of hard to forget, given that he'd first met Vlad here, and Sam had researched the castle to death. She had found the story of the Dairy King; she knew the blueprints and layout of the castle. She knew all of that and, subsequently, Danny had been forced to learn it, too.

The dining room was the first room he went to, but from the lack of table settings and the almost stale quality of the air Danny could tell that Vlad rarely used this room. He passed through it to an adjoined room and found a much smaller table. Vlad was already seated, his gaze almost lost in thought, but as soon as Danny glanced at him the man blinked and was suddenly _there_ again. He gestured wordlessly for Danny to sit down across from him. Danny did so quietly and, to avoid speaking to or even looking at Vlad he took the time to examine what was on the table.

If not for his clothes, Danny decided, Vlad would not be out of place in a medieval setting. From his impeccable manners to the various foods on the table Danny almost might have suspected there was a cook tucked away somewhere because the idea of Vlad _cooking_ just didn't seem to flow right. Even so, there was a bowl of winter fruit, some sort of wine for Vlad, milk and water for Danny, and a surprisingly hearty stew. Chancing a glance at Vlad the youth was surprised to find the man watching him. Only when Danny looked away did Vlad pick up a spoon.

"Don't let it get cold, Daniel," he said simply, and that was that.

-DP-

_It's really hard to sit down and write this story…Which must be obvious, considering it took two months for me to manage a decent chapter. This one's shorter than the last one._

_I'm not used to writing like this – the two or three other fics I have planned are all AU for a reason. I'm a fantasy writer more than I'm a fiction writer, so it's difficult to stick to something like this. I can't say this story will be very long, either._

_I really didn't like how this chapter turned out, because I don't think I stayed true to the characters, but out of two or three ways I considered to get everything moving, this way was the one that stayed the truest to Vlad and Danny. Still, the OOC bothers me._

_I will try not to take so long again, but between two jobs and the whole getting-in-shape-for-the-Navy thing, it's a little difficult. Even so, there really is no excuse, I suppose._

_Thank you all so much for your reviews! I only have a few of you, but you all mean a lot to me. I don't normally do replies, but, oh well. I will anyway._

**DinKelion: Love, you know I'm going to address you first and foremost. And of course, now that I have your stamp of approval, I'm going to have to continue, aren't I? I'm glad you understood the effect I was trying to create with Danny. I didn't want an overload of emotions – just straight realization at first. Thanks for the review, love. 3**

**Kyle: I don't know if you still want to read, all things considered, but I'm really glad to be writing something you like! Personally I'm a fluff!bunny. I don't usually do angst, but as a writer I guess I have to think outside the box, ne? Thanks for your review!**

**Animehpgurl: Thanks!**

**The Wolf: Your alias is so like you… I'm glad you liked it, too, dear. "Did someone call for dues ex machina??" No, no, nothing like that. When I kill people, they usually stay dead. Nice to know you have that faith in me, though. **

**Granite Ghost: I had to look up "ftw" I guess I'm just a loser like that. You're the first reviewer to like the song clips I put in. Yeah, I like the Japanese lyrics better than the Spanish/Italian (since I don't know which it really is). I like the Spanish/Italian version better, though – the voice in the Japanese bothers me a tad. But yes, Pompous Pep pwns. Thoroughly.**

**Emyrin: Coming from you, that means a lot, my dear. I'd say description is my strongest point, but there is such a thing as **_**too much**_** description. I know I'm supposed to let the reader imagine, but I don't like to do that for some things. I like to adequately portray the picture in my head – especially when it comes to clothes. And I hate clothes, normally. Wtf?**

**Xelena: You say that like Vlad picked up a stray dog somewhere… Or a cat… Kitty Danny… Hmm… Anyway, moving along, **_**of course**_** a father/son relationship wouldn't be as much fun! I can see it happening. I can even see that type of thing as a good fic. But that's not what I'm writing. D**

**Rya: Well, my dear, here's more for you to read! Interestingly, I got your review only, like, yesterday. Aren't you the lucky one for not having to wait? I've been waiting since March for **_**The Marriage Stone**_** to be updated… Granted, the writer has a family member that's extremely ill but, still, it's such a great HP fic…**

_I feel the love and support. Thank you all for your comments! Criticism is good, too. Keep in mind that flames are generally ineffective and I use them to melt the peanut butter on my bagels. Mm… Peanut butter…_

_Word count: 5,438_

_AkizukiSakura_


	4. The World

**Title: **_In the End  
_**Author: **_AkizukiSakura  
_**Series: **_Danny Phantom  
_**Genre: **_Hurt/Comfort/Romance  
_**Rating: **_M/R  
_**Pairing(s): **_Vlad/Danny (Pompous Pep)  
_**Spoilers/Warnings: **_Spoilers for _The Ultimate Enemy_, but eventually plot divergent. There may be flashbacks or mentions of other DP episodes later.  
_**Disclaimer: **_Danny Phantom is owned by the esteemed Butch Hartman and all subsequent copyrights. I claim no ownership of this series, nor do I make monetary profit from the writing of this story.  
_**Summary: **_We all know that Clockwork stepped in, stopped time, and saved Danny's family and two best friends – and a teacher that cared for his students despite their ridicule of him – from certain, explosive death. But what if he hadn't?  
_**Notes:**_ Besides what I said last chapter, not much. Also, this chapter is dedicated to _Granite Ghost_ for being such a stellar reviewer._

**Chapter 3: **_The World_

_You are here alone again  
__In your sweet insanity  
__All too calm, you hide yourself from reality  
__Do you call it solitude? Do you call it liberty?  
__When all the world turns away to leave you lonely_

_The fields are filled with desires  
__All voices crying for freedom  
__But all in vain they will fade away  
__There's only you, to answer you  
__Forever_

_-Kajiura Yuki, The World_

-DP-

Three months ago he would have come home and phased through the door of his house and then through the ceiling and into his room. He would have tossed his backpack onto the floor and then he might have dropped down onto his bed for a few moments, the springs in the old mattress creaking a little with the movement. Old it might be, but he had this mattress broken in perfectly and resisted all attempts to have it thrown out – besides, it wasn't rotten or smelly. Just old.

He wouldn't have spent much time lying there, though, before he got to his feet. He'd probably glance at his pack on the floor and sigh, thinking about all the homework he had to do, and then he'd take his ghost form and leave through the closed window to begin his patrol. Sam and Tucker would join him as he flew over the park and they'd just as quickly split up. With all three of them working they could cover the whole town in a little over two hours. In the rare instance that there were no ghosts lurking, they could hang out like normal teens for a while before heading home. On those nights only Danny might manage his homework, could slide into the house shortly before curfew, and could enjoy dinner with his family.

Now he didn't walk home from school – there was a car provided for him, complete with a stiff-jawed driver – something like a Mercedes, he thought, sleek black with smooth silver and tinted windows. Vlad's estate was too far for him to walk, and the older halfa was resolute in his decision to keep Danny from taking his ghost form via that strange, barely-visible device around the younger man's neck. Then again, Danny wasn't exactly fighting to have the ability back. In fact, during those first months, he rarely said anything to anyone, Vlad or otherwise.

The school he attended was an integrated school of all grades, so that high school seniors and barely beginning preschoolers were in the same building. Typically the classes were divided so that certain grades stayed in specific wings or floors. As a junior, Danny's classes were on the fourth floor and the east wing.

No one really talked to him. He was too quiet and rarely smiled. His gloomy aura seemed palpable to others and they tended to stay away from him. They probably didn't know what had happened before he transferred here shortly after the winter vacation, and they certainly didn't know who his alias was, but his eyes lacked warmth and the spark of life – something traumatic seemed to have happened to him. He was always seen reading something, usually notes or a textbook, but he didn't have the same air of the other "nerds" who had perfect grades.

Every day when school ended the car was parked out front for him. He never went anywhere except home, never did anything with any friends, nothing. Today was no different.

When he got home, letting himself into the castle with a spare key that hung on a chain around his neck, he deposited his backpack in the study, rather than in his room, and went to make a snack before starting on his homework. When he got to the kitchen, though, he was surprised to find a tray already set up and, of all people, Vlad was trimming the crusts off of several sandwiches.

"Don't stare," Vlad remarked impassively without looking up. "Mind your manners, as I havew taught you. And go wash your hands," he added, carrying the plate over and setting it down on the tray. Danny flushed faintly at having been caught being rude and went to do as he was told.

Danny did not like Vlad. That was something that was unlikely to change any time soon. He did not like the man, but he did not hate him. Then again, Danny had never really hated Vlad since being here, only been annoyed by him and, on the rare occasion, angry enough to truly want to hurt him. Despite all of this, Danny had to respect Vlad. This was due in part to the fact that he was being forced to it, but in the time since the incident, short though it had been, Danny knew that everything Vlad had done he hadn't had to do. Vlad didn't have to enforce manners. He didn't have to force Danny to pick up his grades. He didn't have to do a lot of the things he did – such as making a snack, surprising as it was – but he did them.

Danny suspected Vlad had his own selfish reasons for doing all of this, and that was why he couldn't like Vlad even a little bit. He knew that Vlad thought often of his mother, and that Vlad had his store of various liquors for reminiscing, and such actions incensed Danny. He never said anything about it, though. The memories of his family and friends were locked up tight, too raw and painful to look over.

At the very least, Danny decided, he owed Vlad his obedience. Not in the way of criminal activity, as Vlad had first suggested on that night he'd discovered Plasmius' true identity, because that was something Danny would never allow, but there was no reason to be rebellious when Vlad's advice and rules were helpful.

When he got back from washing his hands the tray and Vlad were gone but Danny had expected that already. Instead he made his way back to the den in time to see Vlad sitting in his usual chair, a cup of steaming tea resting on a saucer in his hand. Danny didn't care for tea unless it was iced and only a little sweetened, but Vlad knew that already and had provided a glass of water, which Danny took along with a sandwich triangle. He, too, sat down.

"How was school?" the older man asked pleasantly enough, another first. This time Danny caught himself staring before Vlad could chastise him and dropped his gaze to his glass of water.

"It was fine." He didn't know what else to say. Before, he might have told his parents about a particularly difficult class, or asked his sister for help with his homework on the rare occasion that he was able to do it. He would have said nothing of Dash's typical bullying and, of course, no one knew of his "extracurricular" activity of ghost hunting but for Sam and Tucker and, though Danny didn't know it, Jazz. Now that he had nothing else to do – and no desire to do anything else – his grades were actually good and he was learning what he was taught, rather than knowing it for a test and instantly forgetting it. What else could he say to that question?

Vlad was scrutinizing him now over the rim of his teacup, clearly dissatisfied with the answer Danny had given. To keep Vlad from saying as much, Danny set aside his water – the sandwich quarter already finished – and pulled his backpack closer. After unzipping the black satchel and digging for a moment he made a sound of annoyance before finally managing to tug out a manila folder.

"There's a parent-teacher day coming up," he remarked, offering the beige folder to Vlad as he elaborated further. "It's not mandatory, but the students have the day off so parents – or guardians – can use the day for meetings with the teachers. I told them you probably wouldn't care, but I'm supposed to give this to you anyway and they want it signed to prove I really did." Vlad accepted the folder in silence and flicked through the contents as Danny sat back down and began to dig in his backpack, tugging out a chemistry textbook and a notebook a moment later. A pen and a planner followed that; he was going to start his homework, it seemed.

-DP-

The question on how Daniel's day had been had come out before Vlad could stop it. At first, he'd regretted saying anything at all, for Daniel was sure to only give him a baleful glare and then answer only reluctantly because of what Vlad held over his head. To the billionaire's immense surprise the boy had seemed more shocked that he'd even asked at all, though Vlad was pleased Daniel had managed to curb his staring before Vlad had to remind him that it was rude.

It irked Vlad, though, to think that Daniel would never expect him to care. Granted, the boy had a good reason to think that, given their track record together, but as Vlad had reiterated often and oft: He had always wanted Daniel as his son. _Always_. And perhaps it was under strange – and tragic – circumstances that Daniel now lived with him but Vlad had every intention of assuming that fatherly role until the boy was old enough to be called a man.

Glancing at him now over the edge of the folder, Vlad could only see a child doing his homework. Physically, Daniel was smaller than most males his age, though he wasn't precisely "short". He bore no facial hair and Vlad could bet his chest was smooth, too. All that suggested he might be a bit more mature that appearances suggested was the faint hint of muscle that his baggy clothes used to hide. The pale blue button-up he wore now, tucked in as Vlad insisted, was not as baggy as the t-shirts Daniel had worn before and the lines of muscle showed through when the shirt occasionally pulled tightly against the cotton-polyester blend.

Concentrating on his homework Daniel bore an expression of concentration that would not have looked out of place on a child learning to walk for the very first time. He really did not look a day older than when Vlad had first met him two years ago.

In order for Vlad to realize that this boy was actually a young man he had to put aside Daniel's physical appearance and think about what he had been through. A life-altering accident in a ghost portal – he'd mercifully been spared the acne affliction that had plagued Vlad – and fights with apparitions that most people did not believe existed. He'd dealt with the trauma of a town hating his ghostly half, of worrying if his parents would ever accept him, and of fighting enemies that some would believe were too much for him.

Even Vlad, who had gained his power twenty years prior to Daniel's acquisition, constantly fell to the youth. Vlad knew he was physically stronger, normally, but there was something about Daniel that not only allowed him to continuously thwart enemies that were much more powerful than he was but that also drew people to him. Even his fellow classmates had felt that charisma, though he'd been Phantom at the time. Vlad knew the hierarchies of high school well enough to recall that, at that age, most students were more wrapped up in trivial things to realize that some things were just more important than vanity.

"You're staring," Danny said flatly, breaking into Vlad's thoughts. Vlad blinked, somewhat surprised, and looked up into Danny's cerulean stare. Vlad almost wanted to reprimand Danny for daring to say anything like that to him but, instead, he shook his head.

"Was I? My apologies, Daniel." He got to his feet, ignoring the suspicious look Danny was giving him as he collected his half-empty teacup and the manila folder. "Since you'll have the day off of school soon, why not go into town?" Vlad suggested idly, though from the way he looked at Danny the latter knew it wasn't really a request.

"…all right," Danny agreed rather sullenly, turning back to his chemistry homework. He looked up again in surprise when a hand rested on his shoulder.

"You don't do yourself any good when you stay locked up in the castle all the time, Daniel. The air will do you some good." He left before Danny could respond, closing the study door gently behind him. Perhaps that was just as well, too, because Danny couldn't think of anything to say to Vlad's sudden bout of kindness.

-DP-

A week later found Danny walking through town, his coat buttoned and a scarf folded neatly around his neck. Both were black, as were the gloves he wore on hands currently tucked into the pockets of his ankle-length coat and the plain boots visible under the hems of his coat – it was March, true, but March in Wisconsin was not the epitome of warmth, not by a long shot.

Despite having lived here for a few months Danny had only ever been to the school in the city and Vlad's castle. The city Danny's school was in was about a half-hour drive from this town, which was a ten minute drive from the castle, but since this town didn't have a high school – or a school in general – Danny had to make due.

This town was rather like one of those quaint little villages one found in old movies where the setting was medieval times. If there was a castle somewhere there would undoubtedly be a small village not far from it, since the noble lord would reside in said castle and the peasants in the village. Just because it was small, though, didn't mean there was nothing here.

Ever since Vlad had bought the castle – the other bidder had wanted to turn it into a museum – he allowed tourists on his property but they had to stay a certain distance away. This was the tourists where allowed pictures of the castle and lands, and Vlad was afforded his privacy. As a billionaire, after all, he had an image to upkeep. Because of this, the village also saw a decent bit of traffic, especially during the summer, and there were several various shops that lined the main road. Since there were only a few hundred people in the village, those shops didn't see a lot of every day customers, but since most of the owners lived above the shops they could afford to keep the stores open anyway.

The glass of the windows was semi-clean, affording a look of the barest outlines of the items on display without allowing the passers-by to actually glean the details from the wares. If Danny had cared to truly examine anything he might have been annoyed but, as it was, he was really only here because Vlad had practically ordered him to be here.

Vlad.

When had Danny started thinking of him as "Vlad" rather than "Plasmius"? Even when he'd called him Vlad before his subconscious had always identified the man by his ghostly form and amoral deeds. So when had Danny started thinking of him as a human male rather than as a ghostly villain, something that hadn't happened since they'd first met and Danny hadn't know Vlad's secret?

Certainly Danny hadn't liked Vlad after that. It wasn't until he'd learned the extent of what Vlad would do to Danny and his family that Danny had truly started to hate him. After all, Danny did not hate any of the other ghosts. Except, well…

But he didn't hate Desiree, or Skulker, or Technus, or even Walker. They were his enemies, but while they gave him the occasional beating he did not hate them. That would be like hating Dash just for being a teenage jock. Vlad, though… He had truly despised the other halfa for at least a year and a half, if not longer. Always teasing, manipulating, and generally being a pain in Danny's ass.

And yet, despite the fact he thought Vlad loathed him equally, when Danny had no where else to go – no desire to even really live – it was Vlad who stepped in a slapped some sense into him. Or, rather, blackmailed some sense into him but still. Danny was alive now because of Vlad. He was in a good school, with good grades, and a decent future in the works. Vlad was…acting like a father.

Abruptly Danny shook that last thought off, his expression morphing from brooding contemplation to resignation. No matter how he thought about it now, Danny did not hate Vlad anymore. How could he? At the time perhaps Danny hadn't wanted to live, but now that he was, he found that life wasn't all that bad. He refused to think of what had happened, and he had no desire to take up the hero mantle again, and he really had no desire to make any friends, but living he could do.

When the car pulled up to the castle, the driver getting out to open the door for Danny, the youth was surprised to find Vlad waiting on the front steps, wind tugging at his restrained hair. He watched Danny quietly ascend the stairs and was equally silent as they stared at each other for several long moments. It was the younger of the two who broke the silence first.

"What's for dinner?"

Vlad smiled faintly and led Danny inside, the large cedar doors closing quietly behind them.

-DP-

Deep within the ghost zone, in an area most ghosts tended to avoid, a certain scarred ghost watched this almost touching scene through the face of a giant circular glass the was not unlike a magnifying glass in shape. His lips were pressed into a dispassionate line but closer inspection of his red eyes revealed that he was not as emotionless as he would have liked to be.

He had a choice here, though he knew already what he was going to do. It would split the timeline, as happened with any choice made, and he knew what would happen in both instances. With a sigh he turned, glancing across the massive room that resembled the interior of a clock, red eyes zeroing in on what would be a pivotal point in the future.

Of course he knew what would happen soon – had happened, was happening – was inevitable, but that didn't mean the future was set in stone. He had influenced it in another timeline – that Phantom was currently battling a female clone of himself – but knowing he had interfered in that time stream had kept him from making the decision to save Danny's family and friends in this one. There were infinite possibilities to the ghost child's future. He was about to make that infinite-and-_one_ possibilities.

Even so, he passed a hand over the glass to observe what would happen if he didn't make this choice – that is, if he stood by and did nothing. He knew already what would happen, just as he knew already that he would not care for the outcome. He knew later he would have to make another choice, and it would create an alternate future once again, but that was fine. At least the endings to both of those were happy for Danny. One of them was even happy for him.

Without contemplating further on his choices, he glanced one last time at the cylindrical metal container across the room before making his choice.

-DP-

_This chapter is fairly short, unfortunately, but at least something happened. Anyone who thinks it will be smooth sailing from here should raise their hands. And then they should promptly whack themselves on the head for being so naïve. _

_I'm sure everyone knows who the ghost is and this chapter deals with the fact that just because one bad thing happens doesn't mean something good can't come from it. In religious circles this is known as "God never closes one door without opening another", not that I'm particularly religious. I'm not sure how well I can do it but, in addition to the climax and ending being rather monumental, at least in my opinion, this idea started out first and foremost as a psycological take. Make of that what you will._

_Now, I read a DP fanfiction where something similar to what I'm about to do next happened, and I'm sorry. _Yes_, the idea was influenced from that story. No, the roles played will not be the same. It's fanfiction, and humans have been writing for how long? Some ideas are bound to be reused._

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed and I'm really happy that people seem to enjoy this story. I have many, many more planned, though most are AU or at least plot divergent, come from roleplays with a certain good friend of mine, and are about as fantasy as it gets. C'est la vie._

**bunnykitune: Yeah, you and me both. Well, that's actually a half-truth. I know where this is going and how it ends, but how I'm getting there changes every time I finally sit down to write. Ah well. At least it didn't take me a whole month to update this time. I think.**

**Thunderstorm101: Cool handle. I love thunder and storms. And lightning, when it's not killing people. Odd tangent or not, it was interesting. I love learning, especially about other cultures and time periods. I'm so pleased you thought it was realistic! I worked very hard not to overdo it, but I didn't want to underplay his feelings, either. Having never lost anyone that close to me, it's difficult for me to portray those emotions appropriately.**

**Granite Ghost: I'm so pleased that you were waiting! It means that someone actually anticipates what I write, rather than just reading it in passing. It makes me feel very accomplished! As to jumping straight to rape… Don't get me wrong. Non-con Danny is one of my favorite things. You should **_**see**_**my roleplays with a certain someone. I do agree he's made out to be such a girl by most people, though. There's a way to make him submit without taking away his actual personality. And Vlad **_**is**_** trying not to hurt Danny. What father would want to hurt his son? This chapter is one of Vlad's more intelligent moves to help out. He doesn't always get a lot of those, and it's hard to do so considering how wooden his cannon character is at times.**

**Danny will open up eventually, though I won't say how. Liz knows, but that's 'cause she gave me the idea. At least they took a positive step forward in this chapter! And, yeah, sometimes being the all-knowing reader/writer is really frustrating. It's harder for the writer at times, too, because I can't let my omnipotent thoughts slide through to the characters. Thank you so much for your support! Naval basic training is eight weeks, but I hope to finish this story before I leave in January. I have A-school directly after, though, for six months. And Nuclear Power school is NOT something I'll be able to fly through. Damn.**

**Rya Starling: Of course he does, sweetheart. He's **_**Vlad**_**. Vlad **_**always**_**is two steps ahead. It's just that occasionally Danny is three steps ahead, usually by dumb luck. But we love them anyway. I'm jealous of your Vlad plushie. I want a Danny one. –Pouts-**

**animehpgurl: Thank you so much! That means a lot to me!**

_I feel the love and support, I really truly do. It means a lot to me that you all take the time to review and leave your comments! Criticism is good, too. _

_Keep in mind that flames are generally ineffective and I use them to melt the peanut butter on my bagels. Because I don't like cream cheese._

_Word count: 4,246_

_AkizukiSakura_


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